Who Cares?
by Never Sell Out
Summary: You grew up on the streets. Your mom is gone. Your family is falling apart. Who then again, who cares? You may have a record, but isn't that something you should be worrying about?


Authors note: Alright. Short little one shot in Joe Jounouchi and his family. I'm not sure if any of this is right, or what, but I tried. I'm sorry for all of my mistakes. I did try my hardest to catch all the mistakes, but I probably did miss some. It would be great if you could help me catch them. Con crit would be great JDisclaimer: I don't own, "Yu Gi Oh."

_**Chapter One: Just Like You.**_

He always had a cigarette lit in his hand when he was sixteen. There wasn't a time when anyone - especially you - could see him with out one. Maybe you couldn't imagine him with out one seeing how he was the age that you are now. You're not gonna lie; your afraid that you'll turn out like him one day. You're afraid of being alone. You're afraid of your wife leaving you and taking away the kids That just isn't healthy.

He just isn't healthy.

He was a daddy when he was still in high school. He had a lovely son with out a future. Again, that scared you. It's a given that your dad wasn't high up in his class; he was a stoner who laid women when he got bored. Never did he want to be baby daddy. You're mom wasn't a good girl either. She had a rep of being easy. She was easy. She was with every guy. She even dropped out of high school.

She just wasn't smart.

You were her excuse for not going back to that rat hole. Her reason for no more work. Boy was she wrong. You were the reason why she had no more friends and got married at sixteen. But she just didn't learn. At eighteen she had yet another kid and You were an older brother. Being three you couldn't care less. You didn't even know that the yelling wasn't proper. You thought every family did it.

You and your sister could have not been less perfect. At fourteen you joined a gang who always had your back. You needed one of those. You couldn't imagine being with any people other than them. In the back of your mind you were thinking of the kid that you replaced. But, who cares.

The hitting continued. Sometimes you would get bruises. Sometimes you were ignored. Sometimes your mom would leave for a while and never show back up for the week or weekend. You didn't care. You had your gang. They may have been on drugs, but you didn't judge. You had no right too. They would ask if you were got stoned. You would say yes. You lied. You were as clean as a sponge but you wanted to fit in. You would act high. You would act loopy. You even made up people.

One day things were taken too far.

You see, it was perfectly all right if your dad hit you (Right?) but the minute a hand was raised and hit your sister, your mom bolted. She wasn't even hit hard. Just enough to get the common sense into her. It wasn't your fault - it was no ones - but they still left.

They never looked back.

Neither did you.

At fifteen you had a record with harassment. You didn't mean too "Hit Up" some girl, it just sorta happened. You spent a day in the slammer. Oh well. But your buddies never left. They promised and as everyone knows promises mean everything. It was a law. You started drinking around the same time as your dad. You thought it made you look cool. He did it to escape reality. He didn't care and neither did you.

You stopped going home after he kicked you out for stealing some of his drinks. He exploded saying you were too young too drink. You didn't care. The gang would have your back.

You were sixteen when your grades were all below averages. There wasn't a single class that you were passing. You blamed everyone. No one was innocent.

Cops knew your name.

Who cares?

You have a restraining order.

Who cares?

You're no worse then your dad.

You laughed. Who cares?

You always did.

One day you got replaced by the gang when the cops showed. They all pointed the finger at you. What are friends for, right? You took the blame. They sold you out for everything - event he things you didn't do - and got away. Fuck them. Who needs them.

That's right. You do.

School was a drag. Your new probation officer said that he would throw you in jail if you didn't pass every class. You were screwed until you met Honda.

His dad was a cop. He heard you; Who didn't? But unlike the others, he didn't care. You could say that you killed someone and he wouldn't.

That's right.

Someone new.

You cant tell how - or why - but you guys became friends. Your grades increased and you met his friends. Some short little boy welcomed you in. Some burnet was smiley. Whatever.

As much as you would hate to admit it, you owe them everything. You didn't go to jail. You weren't killed street fighting like the mid who took your place was. Someone cared. You gave up drugs and started card games. Trading an addiction for another was alright.

The main thing that scares you when you look in the mirror every morning is how much you look like him. The eyes. The face. The cigarette. That scared you the most.

You weren't healthy.

You weren't smart.

Things were always taken too far.

You got the worst traits of your parents.

But, you wouldn't trade them for the world. Whatever happened, happened. They brought you too where you are today.


End file.
